


50 Shades of Muriel

by snailtrail



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Multi, Non Gender Specific Reader, i got sick and wanted muriel to take care of me, rating is for future chapters, so heres muriel taking care of all of us
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-07 01:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12830421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snailtrail/pseuds/snailtrail
Summary: When you're poisoned while visiting the shop, Muriel's the only one who can save your life. Bedridden and confused, will you ever figure out who poisoned you and why? And during your long recovery with no company but each other, how will your relationship with the gentle giant develop? (Spoiler: you do and y'all get frisky)





	1. Chapter Zero

**Author's Note:**

> So weird side note but in the Asra flashback it seemed like the writers might(???) have implied that Muriel identified as they/them but in the fandom wiki he identified as he/him so I chose to write as he/him. Pls lemme know if anyone knows what Muriel actually identifies as cuz I have no attention span and probably missed it if it was in the play thru.  
> Anyway, I love Muriel and he is the best boy to ever grace the gaming universe but for some godforsaken reason (maybe because he makes like 2 total appearances) there's not much fanfiction centering around him. I think this will be really fun so pls comment with any suggestions/ideas!

Your headed lolled in circles, dizzy and helpless. The room was spinning, beige walls blending together and holding you under an awful trance as your abdomen bulged and ice cold sweat slid down your face in sheets. Your kidneys clenched, forming rocks in your flesh and further adding to the sickening bloat that had taken over you. Dried vomit clung to the corners of your mouth, more of it threatening to gush from your unbearably empty stomach at any minute. And your stomach, it sank like a drying prune in your distended belly, tight and shrinking all the time. The thought of the bedpan beneath you worsened the sickness, stirring up the whirlwind of nausea that gripped your body like chains. You struggled to sit up, the limpness of your muscles quivering and on the verge of collapse under the weight of your throbbing head. One thought ruled you in that hysteria: _End this! End this! End this!_

 

And all at once, it was gone.

 

Cool hands, firm and kind pressed your head back against the pillow. Broad fingertips covered your face, stopping the relentless swimming of your eyes and dampening the ache that came from every corner of your body. Your rasping breath steadied, and those healing, chilling hands moved effortlessly down your cheeks to your throat. They circled to the back of your neck, threading nimbly up through your scalp before again tracing down your forehead to cover your eyes.

 

_Thank you…_

 

A whisper was the most you could expel before darkness overtook you.


	2. Muriel the Caretaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I basically just made a few edits to chapter one because I didn't like the flow of the end much. Anyway, here's the updated chapter 1: the MC wakes up and gets to learn just a little bit more about Muriel's home life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and suggestions welcome!

Fitful dreams stretched on endlessly in your fevered mind, but when you awoke they shattered into pieces. _The market, a figure, and sour tea, that was all_.

 

Your vision drifted around the room, landing weakly on the looming man at the end of your bed.

 

“Muriel,” you croaked in confusion, “What…”

 

The giant grunted, leaning over you and palming your forehead to check for temperature. Muriel was a mystery to you on your healthiest day, but you hoped to draw out some sense from him before you collapsed again. It was probable the most you would get was another vague warning about your questionable life choices, but you figured it was worth a shot.

 

“What… What happened to me…” you mumbled, each word tasting like metal and filling your mouth with saliva.

 

His eyes flickered to your face without emotion.

 

“Poisoned.”

 

The hand fell away from your skin, satisfied with the result. Your fever persisted, but it had dropped significantly since your delirious episode several nights before.

 

“Poisoned? How…” you asked, though more to yourself than Muriel. You could hardly keep a train of thought, but from what you remembered, you hadn’t done anything unusual before you blacked out; gone into the market, made something to drink, and then it had all gone blank.

 

Muriel hovered gloomily above you, looking like an angel of death as he analyzed your gaunt features. Really, you were starting to wonder why he hadn’t been hired to model for those spiritual paintings about damnation. He certainly had the face for it.

 

“Powdered starstrand flower. I saw a suspicious figure loitering around the teashop when you made your purchase. I couldn’t confirm that they had tampered with your blend until you brewed it. The smell was unmistakable,” he stated, shutting his eyes in apparent reflection.

 

A faint memory of yesterday’s brew passed through your mind. _The tea had smelled stronger than usual, which is why I decided to drink it on the patio… to keep the strong smell from lingering in the shop..._ You imagined Muriel could have been lurking around the shop’s corner, but for him to have detected the poison’s scent from that distance was still an inhuman feat in your opinion. More importantly, why was he always slinking around Asra’s shop to begin with? They may have had some kind of relationship, but Asra was spending less time at the shop than you were lately... Mentally, you promised you would keep a closer eye on Muriel from now on.

“Another sip and you would not have survived,” Muriel continued, his heavy brow lowering in severity, “Expect fever, chills, vomiting, headaches, diarrhea, body aches, numbness and possible damage to your central nervous system.”

 

“How exciting…” you muttered, “Well, thank you for taking me in anyway. You saved my life.”

 

The wanderer gave a simple nod of acknowledgment before turning away and leaving the room. When you heard the click of a door closing minutes later you allowed your muscles to relax at last. Your body was still in immense discomfort, but a short break from Muriel’s ominous presence was enough to put your mind at ease for a moment. There was something troubling about him, though that may well have been because he only appeared when he had a dire warning about the future to deliver. You supposed you would have to get used to it soon enough though. The poison in your blood hardly left you with the energy to speak, much less find your way back to the castle. The ache in your bones told you you would be spending quite a bit of quality time with your cryptic rescuer.

 

 _He must have some redeeming qualities_ , you thought to yourself, recalling what you’d seen of his and Asra’s relationship. _He’s just so… strange_. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something. Not to mention the way his expression and voice remained consistently neutral no matter the situation. It wasn’t that you thought this was necessarily wrong, but you did want to know why he expressed himself so minimally. He lived like some kind of ghostly harbinger rather than a person, and frankly it made living with him all the more unnerving.

 

“Muriel,” you called, loud as you could manage, “can I ask you something?”

 

You weren’t sure if he would answer your question. Muriel had to have some motive for his secretive behavior, and you doubted if he gave out information easily. You were hoping to at least rule out the possibility that Muriel was the one who had poisoned you before you committed being locked away here for gods knew how long. It was unlikely you’d have much choice in the matter anyway, but still you wanted to know as much about your predicament as possible. He was taking care of you, which you appreciated, but still you had to keep your wits about you.

 

Scratching and quiet footsteps could be heard in the next room, which you took to mean Muriel had moved within earshot.

 

“Muriel, why um… Why is it you happened to be in the marketplace with me that day,” you asked without much expectation of a reply.

 

 

You would get your answer, though not any you were expecting, when Muriel appeared in the doorway seconds later. His expression was predictably disinterested, tattered cape still drooping by his feet, but he had made some startling changes to his appearance overall.

 

Two cooing chicken were slung under each of his massive arms, their feathers puffed up from the cold weather. Tiny yellow beaks pecked at the chains around his wrists, the apparent cause of the scratching you had heard earlier. A sack of corn kernels was hanging casually from between his teeth too, and if you squinted, you could read the words, ‘Dr. Devorak’s Homegrown Victuals,’ printed on it in dark red letters. To your great surprise, he even had a couple of white feathers stuck to parts of his stubbly beard.

 

“Har tuh git sum feed,” he grumbled, unbothered by the burlap muffling his speech.

 

Without another word, your gargantuan companion departed just as curiously as he had made his entrance, the sound of clucking following him out of the door. You laid there in complete silence for a while before letting out a laugh that inevitably turned into a fit of the giggles. Each one made you want to vomit all the more, but you couldn’t help it; Muriel, the eternally serious, fathering a pair of cute little chickens. It was too much! _Well, at least he has an alibi_ , you thought, deciding farmer Muriel was probably not your attempted murderer. Still grinning, you closed your eyes to try to get some rest. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as you thought...


	3. Muriel the Acquaintance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is definitely later than I wanted it to be (my Word crashed rip) -- anyway, here's a short version of the chapter to be updated after my exam tomorrow (!!)

By your next waking morning, you had pieced together a few crucial pieces of information regarding your circumstances. The first, and most importantly, was that accounting for the day you had spent unconscious, you had been in Muriel’s hut for two days. This would be the third day, meaning there were only ten days left before the Count’s birthday.

It had also occurred to you that given Muriel’s reclusive lifestyle, he had not informed the palace of your whereabouts. Nadia probably believed you to be dead, or worse, missing and a traitor. _She must be going out of her mind…_ Ideally, you would leave for the castle this morning and arrive before sundown, but the debilitating pain in your sides would make lengthy travel impossible. Your condition was improving, but only by small degrees, and even on your third day of medication you weren’t strong enough to stand on your own. Still, you weren’t the type to let setbacks derail your plans, and as you struggled to get warm in the stiff straw bed, you made a mental to-do list for the next several days.

            You waited for Muriel to bring you breakfast that morning: yogurt, honey and water. He was slightly more receptive to conversation at meal times, a fact that you intended to take full advantage of. Little by little, you were learning how to communicate with the gentle giant, and with some finesse, you were confident you could get him to help you.

 

            “Muriel, I’m feeling a lot better today,” you lied, trying to start a casual conversation.

 

            Slouched in a wooden chair, he glanced at you from beneath his low-hanging hood. He didn’t speak and his expression was decidedly neutral, but you got the impression he was feeling more relaxed around you than in the day before.

 

            “I’m feeling better, but I still can’t get around, so I was wondering if you could bring me a quill and ink to use? I’d like to write to the palace as soon as possible.”

 

            His eyebrows scrunched at the question, his mouth forming a wary frown and his cheeks taking on the mildest shade of pink. A pit formed in your stomach at the thought that you may have offended him.

 

            “…I don’t have one...” he muttered after some thought, “but I can get one… I’m leaving for the market in the afternoon.”

 

            Relief spread through you when he seemed to soften again. You were beginning to like Muriel and his band of plucky farm animals. He seemed nice enough, and he could probably fill in some of the gaps in your memory if he ever decided to trust you with whatever secrets he was keeping. Either way, you didn’t want to alienate him just yet.

 

            “Thanks, that would be really helpful,” you smiled gratefully.

           

            He gave a nod and a quiet grunt before settling back into his chair. The rest of the morning passed peacefully, and for the first time the silence in the room didn’t bother you. Bright winter sun was streaming through the bedroom window, catching the tips of Muriel’s dark eyelashes and washing his bare chest in warm light _._ Slumped in his paltry seat, his hulking figure dozed as you ate your yogurt. _He’s kind of cute like that,_ you thought dreamily, _like a sleepy watchdog._ The honey tasted pure, and the yogurt seemed to be the only thing you could keep down these days though you could only eat a few spoonfuls at a time. It took over an hour for you to finish your meager breakfast, but Muriel didn’t leave your side until the bowl was empty, waking up just as you set down your water glass. He cleared your plate, the muted scrape of ceramic echoing through the modest room. It was all you could do to watch him in his careful manner; _he hadn’t been asleep at all…_

            “Muriel?”

 

            His face hovered just above yours, green eyes large and brilliant, massive hands still full of dishes and dainty teacups.

 

            “Hm?”

 

            “If you see Asra… will you tell them I’m ok?”

 

            You thought you detected the flicker of a smile cross his features before Muriel nodded, giving you a long searching look before making his exit, leaving you with your thoughts for the rest of the morning.


End file.
